


Rescue; In which Harry and Bob discover a problem, and an unexpected Occasion for cigars

by sylvancat



Category: Dresden Files - All Media Types, Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Crack, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-15
Updated: 2011-09-15
Packaged: 2017-10-23 18:25:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/253490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sylvancat/pseuds/sylvancat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My deal with Bob involved letting him possess my cat when I needed  a spy. He did it for the chance to wander in a body, free of the skull as he’d never be otherwise.<br/>I’d never asked what kind of Deal Bob and Mister made.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rescue; In which Harry and Bob discover a problem, and an unexpected Occasion for cigars

**Author's Note:**

> Comment fic for a prompt on the Dresden Files meme here; http://dresden-kink.dreamwidth.org/2675.html?view=1641843&posted=1#cmt1641843  
> not quite exactly to the prompt, but that's not where it went in the end.  
> warnings- um. You know Bob, right?  
> Also, Kittens. (Or whatever they turn out to be) In Peril.  
> This story is Gen. Except for the implied, above  
> Standard Disclaimer applies.

 

Mister came back from his ramble disgruntled, tail lashing. When I turned to close the door, he headbutted me in the shins so hard I nearly pulled it off the hinges staying upright, and after the spiral of orange sparks swirled up out of him he did it again, harder, so I dropped the can opener and the can, which he dodged neatly and came back in for another pass.

“Dammit, Mister, I’m trying here. I’d get to it faster if you weren’t in the way.”

That got me a slit-eyed glare and a last pass between my feet. Then he sat in the middle of the tiny space between counter and icebox, blocking the path wherever I moved. I’d tripped over him twice by the time I got the can open. He glared disdainfully at the food I scooped in his bowl anyway, and tossed a significant look back at the cloud of orange sparks still hovering behind him.

Message received. Sighing, I went downstairs to find out what Bob had done this time. The spirit trailed after me, reluctantly.

My deal with Bob involved letting him possess my cat when I needed a spy. He did it for the chance to wander in a body, free of the skull as he’d never be otherwise.

I’d never asked what kind of Deal Bob and Mister made. Turns out the cat enjoyed Bob’s brand of mayhem, and that was enough, most of the time. This time, though.

“Seriously, Bob? Kittens? “

The cluster of sparks jittered. “Boss, I know how it sounds, but we’re on a time limit here. They’re in a box in the dumpster. We tried, but we couldn’t get it open to get them out. They’re cold, they’re hungry. And...” he paused for dramatic effect. “Once the restaurant starts dumping in garbage, they’ll smother if they aren’t crushed outright.“

I’d spent the last three days and nights answering calls from SI and the Paranet, putting out small brushfires all over the county nonstop, using more power than I could spare. I’d come in late, sent Bob out to keep an eye on things, woken to Mister’s peremptory summons feeling more aches and bruises than I had skin. The ingredients for the revitalizing potion I needed yesterday were already laid out on the workbench, abandoned when another SOS came through. Four hours of sleep hadn’t been nearly enough to recharge. The weight of exhaustion still dragged at me. Even with the heavy flannel robe over my sweats I was shivering because the bonedeep cold outside seeped into the basement and pooled on the lab floor.

I’d sent Bob out to do some of legwork I was too tired to do. He was supposed to find out why Chicago’s Underworld was acting up. I needed intel. Instead he brought me back a heartrending tale of kittens in peril.

Worse, Mister sat at the top of the ladder watching us both, waiting. I looked around at all the urgent unfinished projects in my lab, thought longingly of the books I needed to research half a dozen new cases , already stacked by my warm comfy couch so I could read while the potions simmered, and tried again.

“Bob, look, just give me the address. I’ll call Animal Control or something. Rescuing kittens is their job, not mine. That’s all I can do.”

Mister sneezed, and glared at me.

“Boss, cats don’t _do_ street names. We can take you there, but that’s about it.”

“You can’t describe it?” Trying to use sarcasm on Bob is like carrying coals to Newcastle.

“You mean, like , maybe you could send the rescue patrol on Mister’s route. Sure, it’s just a long walktwoleaps sharpscentway, to yappydog behindbars and gravyspill, no problem.”

“Nobody likes a smartass, Bob.”

He didn’t even bother with a comeback. He was serious, then. Dammit. I was not going out into the dark and cold again to rescue a box of kittens.

“I can’t, Bob- What am I supposed to do when I find them, anyway? Bring the kittens home? Mister doesn’t tolerate other cats even _outside_ the wards.“

Mister sneezed again, and glared at Bob this time. In this form, Bob shouldn't be able to cringe, but that was a cringe if I ever saw one. I had a very bad feeling about this.

“About that, Boss. Mister, I, um. We think this lot might be ours.”

That took a second to penetrate, and a couple more to think about. Bob and _Mister_?

 _“Yours?”_

The cloud of sparks swirled guiltily a little closer to the skull. Mister’s claws curled into the wood at the top of the ladder, shredding it with a grating sound. Stars and Stones, no. I didn't even want to imagine it. Air and intellect, with claws.

I really didn't want to go out again, and I _really_ didn't want to go out in the cold to bring home a box of baby spirit-feline hybrid monsters. But I knew I wasn’t going to win this one. I have responsibilities to this town.

When my head reached the top of the ladder, Mister’s paw darted at my face. I flinched, too late. Those claws were wickedly sharp, and he had a lot of them. But they were safely sheathed, he just patted me lightly on the cheek, twice, and sat back while I climbed the rest of the way out.

He’d never done that before.

I shucked the warm robe and swirled the grey Warden’s cloak around my shoulders. I shoved my feet into boots that were still damp and shuddered. Mister was already waiting by the door. I reached for it, but he moved to block me again. Right. I looked over my shoulder and called, “I give you permission.”

Lights poured eagerly up from the subbasement and into the cat. Mister shivered and then raised Bob’s glittering eyes to me expectantly. I called my staff to me and followed my tomcatting spirit – my spirited tomcat, whatever, back out into the night, for the safety of rainbows and puppies and well, kittens, everywhere.

However unnatural and terrifying those kittens might be.


End file.
